


Marks

by Patcho418



Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas is gonna hurt my girls so much, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19785910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patcho418/pseuds/Patcho418
Summary: Original prompt from @antisocial-writers-club: Character A is in a weak/vulnerable state (feeling depressed, sad, disappointed or maybe being sick because of a cold) and Character B takes off their hoodie to tug A into it. B holds them softly while stroking their hair and humming or singing a lullaby until A falls asleep in B's arms.





	Marks

A soft, repetitive _pat, pat, pat_ on wood is what slowly stirs Ruby awake. At first, she lays awake in her bed, silently allowing her drowsy mind to play catch-up with her eyes, steadying her breath. Ruby had never been a heavy sleeper, but her time spent traveling across Anima had made her far more alert in the night, aware of any and all disturbances.

A minute passes. The sound repeats. She thinks for a moment it could be rain, and then remembers where they are, where bitter cold freezes water and clouds in the sky warn of blizzards and not thunder.

Another minute, and she’s more awake, more aware of that persistent sound! Ruby grumbles (it’s not like she was gonna get much sleep, anyways) and sits up in her bed, allowing her dizzying vision a moment to clear as she takes in the room.

RWBY was lucky enough to be invited to stay at Atlas academy for some time by Ironwood, despite his insistence that they ‘leave the world-saving to him and Oz’ (his words, and Ruby still hates their derision as if her and her teams weren’t already the ones doing exactly that). 

The dorm rooms are similar enough to the layout that Beacon had had, though without the bunk beds, unfortunately. In the dark haze of the room, Atlas almost permanent glow of teal winter her only source of light, Ruby is able to quickly find the source of the noise, turning to where a pale desk sits in front of the large window–and to where Weiss is sitting, her chin in her palm as her free hand idly taps against the wood in front of her.

Ruby squints for a moment, makes sure it’s her teammate and that she is indeed awake, before turning to slide her feet off of her bed. The shuffling of bedsheets seems to startle Weiss, as she twitches in her chair, her tapping hand immediately tensing against the desk.

“Ruby?” Weiss whispers harshly. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” Ruby begins sheepishly, pulling at the sheets beside her. “Kind of a light sleeper.”

Weiss relinquishes a sigh, relaxes her hand while her posture betrays any sense of renewed comfort. Atlas is always cold, Ruby notes, and sometimes she also feels stiff, solid, unable to allow her own thoughts to surface.

She clutches the sheets, gathering them in her hands before pulling them over herself, and immediately feels warm. “Are you okay?”

There’s a pause as Weiss stills, her eyes pale and unmoving from Ruby as the rise and fall of her chest becomes noticeable, worrying. She reddens, turns hot in the frosty glow.

“No, I’m not okay!” Her whisper is sharp, sizzling, and Ruby rears back before remembering that Weiss couldn’t hurt her, not when this heat is meant for anyone else; it doesn’t stop Weiss, however, and she hisses when she speaks again. “We are in the kingdom I did so much to escape from for a mission that has been taken away from us by a man who’s convinced his-his tinfoil fleet is more capable of saving the world than us! Than the people who have been working day and night to try and figure out a way to do that!” 

She pauses, though she remains fuming, nails clawing at the pink skin of her jaw. Ruby tracks their marks, white and sharp, and her eyes dart quickly to the other mark on Weiss’ face. The mark she earned–no, the mark that forced its way onto her skin through cruelty, through coldness–when she was here among the people who would praise her, applaud her, placing pins in her stature to keep her held upright to their image.

She thinks of other marks she’s suffered, other parts of her own body she’s forfeited for this mission that’s already taken so much out of her, burning stab wounds that have nearly claimed her, heavy lungs and wheezes too faint for anyone else to notice. And she thinks about the unseen marks, the ones on her heart, on her conscience, in the back of her mind grating like claws.

It’s no wonder Weiss never wanted to come back to Atlas. The teal glow doesn’t hide the way her eyes reflect bitter tears staining her eyes.

Weiss sighs after another pause, and this time Ruby can see the colour leave her cheeks, the pain subside at least for a moment of calm. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I’m tired.” She catches herself, her words black and dispassionate, and her mouth hangs as if she’s trying to pull them back in, unsay what she’s just said. “I didn’t mean it like that!” she says with a defensive panic in her tone. “I just…Ruby, I’m so–”

Ruby stands, her expression stony, and moves away from her bed and towards the desk. She sits on the edge of Weiss’ bed closest to it and quickly unzips her scarlet hoodie, shedding it from her shoulders and draping it over Weiss’. Her partner pauses, eyes lit in surprise and confusion as Ruby kneads her thumbs over the soft fabric and into Weiss’ tense shoulders.

“You need to sleep.” Her tone makes the command sound like a question, an invitation, one she hopes Weiss doesn’t refuse. She’s seen how the world can affect the weary, and she needs Weiss at her full strength to save that world. “Please.”

Weiss shakes her head gently as her hand lifts to Ruby’s. “Thank you but…I can’t. I’m…I just…”

“ _Hush your cries_ ,” Ruby begins, voice soft and low, “ _close your eyes. Stay with me._ ”

Almost immediately, Weiss sinks into Ruby’s touch, leaning softly into the kneading of her hand as she sings. Her eyes follow Ruby’s lips, slowly phasing out of focus with every quiet word sung, and that wheezing that only Ruby has ever bothered to notice fades into every faint syllable. Soon, there is only Ruby’s voice in the room, the buzz of outside traffic and high-tech heaters more a part of the song than they are the white noise of a cold, wintery place.

“ _…Yes I know that when I’m with you I’m at home_ ,” is the last thing Ruby sings before Weiss’ eyes slide closed, and a tired smile settles on her lips.


End file.
